


when a house becomes a home

by stupidbadgers



Series: for you, anything [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Discord: Umino Hours, Established Relationship, Hanukkah, Jewish Hatake Kakashi, Jewish Holidays, M/M, Mild Angst, Sukkot | Tabernacles, Umino Hours Winter Bingo, mostly it is soft and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28143999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupidbadgers/pseuds/stupidbadgers
Summary: it's been a very long time since kakashi shared his family traditions with anyone, but for iruka, he would share everything
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Series: for you, anything [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2069925
Comments: 4
Kudos: 79
Collections: The Umino Hours Winter Bingo 2020





	when a house becomes a home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jessicamiriamdrew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessicamiriamdrew/gifts).



> mir, i don't even know how to thank you for your patience and willingness to teach me. i know i ask a lot of questions and it means so much that you answer them all. 
> 
> my offering for you is small, but i tried to put a lot of love into it. 
> 
> any and all errors are my own. please feel free to comment here or message me on tumblr (linked in the end notes), i just ask that you are polite about it. 
> 
> bingo board prompt: family traditions (U-2)
> 
> chag sameach! 
> 
> enjoy~

The manor on the Hatake land was moderately sized and the only house on the estate. It had ceased being a home long ago. The land itself was sprawling, up against the forests of Konoha. Several trees were well established in the space between the front of the house and the walls that partitioned the estate off from the rest of the village. 

The ancient wards hummed against his skin, feeling his chakra as he passed through the gate. It had been a little while since he had visited the manor, feeling like a visitor on the land. He glanced at the tree to his left; an image of his father teaching him to control his chakra by walking up the tree superimposed itself in the evening light. It’s still his favorite tree on the Hatake land, though not his favorite in Konoha. (That is reserved for the towering, leafy green maple outside a special window of the academy. Even when autumn comes along and the tree sheds its leaves, Kakashi still blends into it, making it the ideal hiding spot.) 

He continued to walk up the path, entering the house only after dropping those wards and unlocking the door. It was cold inside, despite the weather still being warm even for early October. Kakashi wanted to imagine a different scenario, a different entering of the house, with the air being warm and comforting, welcoming; with a table to drop his keys and a hook to hang his vest and a greeting called from deep within, welcoming him _home_. He wanted it so badly that it made his bones ache and his jaw set tight with tension. 

But he didn’t have that. Not yet, anyway. Perhaps, one day; soon, even. 

Dust trailed in his wake, little swirls as he padded barefoot from the genkan to the lounge. He placed a log in the irori hearth, before making the signs for a small katon jutsu. The log lit with ease, crackling in the irori as he set another log beside it. Kakashi stared down at it for several moments, getting lost in the orange and red glow of the burning wood. 

The heat of the fire touched his skin, warming the cool air around him, but he remained cold. He considered where to start cleaning, only partially overwhelmed by the size of the task. 

_One step at a time_ , he thought. 

He turned toward the kitchen. His heart clenched in his chest. No, that would be the last step. 

Kakashi began in the lounge, dusting the bookshelves and tables, using a small fūton jutsu to blow the dust out of the sliding shōji doors, careful to not fan the flames of the irori. He went through the rest of the house, completing each task mechanically, not thinking much about what he was doing. It was easiest to move from room to room like this, like he was just another ghost that haunted this place. 

He removed all the dust and anything that did not belong from each room, barring the kitchen, before moving back into the lounge. He began again, this time with a bucket of water and sponge, scrubbing the floors until they shined. He only stuttered in his task once, at the spot on the wood planks in one of the rooms that was slightly darker than the rest. Kakashi knew he should remove them, replace them with new and burn the old, allow the ghost of the past to finally rest, but he couldn’t. Not yet anyway. Perhaps one day, when he was stronger. 

Finally, he had nowhere else to clean. Kakashi stopped outside the open sliding shōji door to the kitchen, staring in at the room. Despite the daylight coming through the grimy window, it was dark in the room, like the sadness had manifested itself into the air. 

A small table sat off to the left in the space between Kakashi and the counter. The fridge hummed to the right. The window looked out onto the courtyard in front of the house. Kakashi saw the tree from earlier through the window. 

He took a step through; he could almost smell the saury broiling and eggplant miso bubbling on the stove. Memories flooded in, faster than he could process, faster than he could handle. A tear slipped down his cheek from his grey eye, the one that matched his father’s. 

Sakumo had taught Kakashi how to cook when he was home from missions, telling his son that he needed to be able to provide for himself when Sakumo wasn’t there. Sakumo had had a sad look on his face when he first explained it to Kakashi, telling him it wasn’t an ideal situation, that Kakashi was still young and he shouldn’t have to worry about things like providing for himself while his father was on a mission. Four-year-old Kakashi, standing on one of the kitchen chairs, had just given him a scathing look with his hands on his hips. Sakumo had laughed, ruffling Kakashi’s hair. 

Back in the present, Kakashi gripped the back of one of the chairs. Sakumo had taught him what he could before… before Kakashi had to learn from books. 

Kakashi wiped the tears from his cheek, taking a deep breath. Here he would think about Sakumo, would consider everything his father was and who he tried to be. While he cleaned out the dust and the grime and made sure everything was in working order, he would reflect upon his father’s life. 

This was the way he would remember his father. 

*

It was several hours later and Kakashi was sitting on the engawa, reading. When the sun reached its highest point, Kakashi placed his book to the side, turning his face up to the sky. He closed his eye, taking a few deep breaths before turning his head to look out at the land stretching to the forest. There was a garden to the left with a pond and small bridge that needed tending to, but he knew there was someone specific who would enjoy working in it. Trees smattered about the land, getting thicker the closer to the forest’s edge. 

He pushed himself up from the raised platform, doing a mental checklist of the items he would need to pick up from the market. Pulling on his flak vest and sandals, he made his way out of the house and through the gates. There was one place he had to stop before the market though. 

*

Kakashi steeled himself before climbing up the side of the building and slipping through the unwarded window. He shut the window with a soft _whoosh_ of air and slid his sandals off, placing them next to the window. He padded through the lounge, following the chakra that was humming from the kitchen. 

The figure was faced away from him, his movements relaxed. Kakashi could smell the oolong tea steeping and as he got closer, the scent of chalk and paper also filled his senses. He wrapped his arms around the other man, resting his chin on the man’s shoulder. 

“Welcome home,” Iruka said, turning his head enough to kiss Kakashi’s temple. 

“Yo.”

Iruka smiled, laughing gently. His hands covered Kakashi’s on his abdomen, squeezing gently. 

“Where’ve you been all morning?” Iruka asked, resting his head against Kakashi’s. 

“I had something to do. Iruka,” Kakashi said, hesitating. Iruka waited for him to continue, always patient with him when he had to find the words or the courage to say what he wanted. He took a breath, the scent of home calming him. “Iruka, would you accompany me for dinner?” 

Iruka turned to look at him now, his brow furrowing slightly, creating the wrinkle between his eyebrows that always appeared when he was confused. 

“That is an awfully formal request for something we do every night,” Iruka replied. 

Kakashi quirked his lips under his mask. Iruka wasn’t wrong. 

“Tonight is… important.” 

“Kakashi?” Iruka’s look was as much concern as it was confusion. He held Kakashi’s hands in his own, thumbs rubbing circles on the back of his hands in the space between his thumb and forefinger. 

Kakashi ducked his head. He knew Iruka didn’t understand, not completely. He didn’t begrudge his partner that because part of it was Kakashi’s own fault. There were few resources in Konoha Iruka could seek out to learn about Kakashi’s customs and traditions and it was difficult to retrieve any of the others outside Konoha. Iruka could only work with what he knew. 

It didn’t help that Kakashi didn’t acknowledge all the customs either, doing his best to honor his culture the way his father had taught him (just as Kakashi’s mother had taught Sakumo) while reconciling it with his life and his actions. 

He still hadn’t answered Iruka and the silence grew heavier. But Iruka was smart—maybe not a genius, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t smarter than most. Most of all, he was quick to pick up on the things underneath the underneath, something for which Kakashi was most grateful. 

“Oh,” he said, his tone soft. “Is this a holiday?” 

Kakashi nodded once, a sharp bob of his head. 

It still felt odd to share this with anyone, but he and Iruka had been together for almost a year and Iruka had been clear as soon as Kakashi had told him that he wanted to be there as support in any way he could, that he would learn because it was important to Kakashi and Kakashi was important to him. 

“I hadn’t realized, I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Iruka said, placing one hand on Kakashi’s cheek. Kakashi was sure Iruka could feel the burning heat of the blush on his face. He guided Kakashi’s face up so they were eye to eye again. “I would love to have dinner with you tonight.” 

“There’s a couple things we have to get from the market first,” Kakashi replied quietly. 

“Alright,” Iruka said, smiling. It wasn’t his biggest nor his brightest, but it filled Kakashi just the same, warmth settling in his chest as Iruka gave him a gentle kiss. 

*

They retrieved the needed items from the market before walking the path to the Hatake land. Iruka gave him a look when they walked past the road that would take them back to their flat, but didn’t say anything. Kakashi had told him he still took care of the Hatake manor, keeping up just enough maintenance so it didn’t fall into disrepair, but Iruka didn’t know any more of Kakashi’s plans. 

Anxiety built with every step toward the land, fear that Iruka would reject him. 

He had to move forward though and he hoped, desperately hoped, Iruka would be by his side while he did. 

*

Iruka was quiet as they approached the gate inscribed with the Hatake clan symbol, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Things were rarely uncomfortable between the two of them. 

Kakashi opened the gate, the wards rippling against his skin and chakra, assessing him and assessing his guest. 

“Wait a moment,” Kakashi said softly, breaking the silence between them. He reached for Iruka’s hand, pressing it against the wood of the gate, then put his hand next to Iruka’s. The seals etched into it glowed a soft blue. “Channel a little bit of chakra into it.” 

Iruka did as instructed, his own chakra making the seals glow brighter as they accepted him.

“Now you can access the land any time you would like,” Kakashi said, not meeting Iruka’s eye. 

“Kakashi, how many people have access to this?” he asked, surprise in his voice. 

Kakashi had turned, capturing Iruka’s hand again, walking along the path to the front door. He could feel Iruka’s gaze on him as he trailed behind ever so slightly. 

“Maa, just us.” He said it like it wasn’t a big deal, like he hadn’t just admitted to giving a large part of himself to Iruka—in a way, baring a piece of his soul. Kakashi resolutely did his best to ignore the way it felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. 

Iruka’s soft gasp didn’t escape him though; he knew the other man knew how much this meant. 

When they reached the door, they repeated the exercise done at the gate, Kakashi channeling chakra into the wood and Iruka following suit. Iruka hadn’t stopped looking at Kakashi, a bit of wonder in his gorgeous brown eyes. 

Kakashi ducked his head as he swung the door open, gesturing for Iruka to enter first. He followed him in, closing the door behind them and slipping his sandals off. The air didn’t feel as suffocating as it had earlier, nor did it have the same chill as before. 

It smelled clear and open, like it could be the beginning of something new. 

“I’ll show you around,” Kakashi said quietly, placing his hand on Iruka’s low back, guiding him through the genkan into the rest of the house. 

“Let me set these down, I’ll be back in a moment,” he said, vanishing from Iruka’s side before the other man could reply. Iruka didn’t seem to notice, his eyes taking in everything he could, like Kakashi had given him a priceless gift. 

Kakashi took a breath as he placed the groceries in the fridge before returning to Iruka’s side. He was exploring the pictures on the shelves of the bookcase that lined one wall of the lounge. It was full of tchotchkes, books, and several ornamental weapons on display. 

A couch was placed across the room against the other wall with a kotatsu set up a little ways away from the couch, though close enough that one could lean against it while remaining under the kotatsu. 

Iruka turned to look at Kakashi as he came back in. 

“You have an irori,” he said, nodding to the rectangle hole no more than three feet long and two feet wide that was set in the middle of the wall with the bookshelves, several feet from the wall. There was a cutout in the bookshelf the length of the irori and went halfway up the wall. The shelves that continued up the wall were also the length of the cutout and a katana sat on display on the first shelf. Above it was a shelf with two tanto blades, and above that were shuriken and kunai, all evenly spaced. None of them looked like they had seen battle, but their blades shone with a sharp precision. 

Kakashi looked at the irori, wood already in it, ready to be lit to warm the house. It was still warm from earlier. 

“You don’t usually find them in the newer constructions. No one in our building has one,” Iruka said offhandedly, walking around it and looking at the shelves some more. “I really like them.” 

Kakashi let out the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Iruka looked up at Kakashi, his smile bright. He slipped his hand into Kakashi’s, threading their fingers, and giving a gentle squeeze. 

“What else is there?” 

Kakashi blinked, rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand, “Um, this way.” 

He led them through the manor, showing him the office and the bedroom he stayed in. As they were walking by the only room with a closed door, Iruka paused, their arms stretched between the two of them. 

“What’s… this one?” he asked quietly. 

Kakashi stood helplessly for a moment, staring at his feet. 

“It is— _was_ —my father’s room.” 

Iruka was quiet for long enough that Kakashi finally looked up at Iruka, expecting a look of pity. 

What met his gaze was not that at all. Iruka _was_ looking at him, but it was filled with understanding and love. 

“Oh, okay. Can I see the kitchen?” Iruka pulled on his hand, as if Kakashi had just said the sky was blue, not that the room on the other side of that door was where his father had killed himself. 

His feet followed Iruka, pulling him toward the lounge. He took the lead then, going in the opposite direction of the kitchen. 

“We’ll go to the kitchen in a moment. You should see the yard first.” 

Kakashi pushed open the shōji door, leading Iruka outside. He watched Iruka’s face closely as the chuunin took in the land that spread out from the engawa. Iruka’s eyes lit when he saw the pond and the space for a garden. 

“Kakashi,” he said, slightly breathless. “This is amazing. It needs some work, but it has the potential to be beautiful.” 

The jounin smiled; he could hear the unspoken request from Iruka, the one that was practically pleading with Kakashi to let him create a garden in the designated space, to clear the weeds and brambles out, make the entire backyard function as it clearly once had. It filled Kakashi with a warmth he couldn’t explain, couldn’t define. 

Iruka continued, walking to the edge of the engawa, “There’s so much space too! Does the land go all the way to the forest? Do you let the ninken run here?” 

Kakashi stepped next to him, leaning against one of the wooden beams. He couldn’t help but smile at Iruka’s excitement, “Mm, the Hatake land extends into the forest, actually, by maybe a mile or so. And the ninken do enjoy running around out here, though they’ve been after me to clean it up for awhile.” 

“They would make excellent helpers in getting it cleaned,” Iruka said, beaming at Kakashi. He turned toward the pile of supplies off to the side of the raised platform. “What are those for?” 

Kakashi turned to look at the pile, knowing what Iruka was referring to. 

“To build the sukkah.”

Iruka peered at Kakashi again, curiosity in his features, waiting for Kakashi to continue. 

“It’s a hut of sorts,” Kakashi said, explaining its meaning and what it represented to Iruka in a quiet voice. There was something somewhat freeing about telling Iruka the traditions in which he practiced, especially when he looked at Iruka’s open and honest expression, eager to learn all that he could. Kakashi finished his explanation with pinked cheeks, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously, “I was hoping you would build the sukkah with me this year.” 

Iruka grasped his hand in both his own, a bright smile on his face, “I would love to. We can eat in there tonight and then watch the stars.” 

The jounin nodded slightly, a pressure building inside him. It wasn’t unpleasant—rather more like the feeling of Iruka hugging him tightly; it was an overwhelming feeling of love, love for the man in front of him who wanted to learn all he could about Kakashi’s customs and learned quickly. 

“Perfect. Shall we get started? Or is there something we need to do first?” Iruka asked. 

Kakashi wondered how he had gotten so lucky to have Iruka.

*

It was a month later, three weeks after Sukkot had ended and Kakashi found himself with Iruka at the Hatake manor again. They had returned several times since the end of Sukkot to work on cleaning the grounds up, Iruka delighting in the beauty that was being unearthed. 

Being the end of the harvest season, he had decided to not plant anything, waiting for spring to arrive. Kakashi assured him that he was more than welcome to do what he pleased out in the backyard. Iruka had kissed Kakashi with so much ferocity Kakashi wasn’t sure where he ended and Iruka began. 

They continued kissing, stumbling their way back into the house, not making it further than the couch. 

*

Much later, they decided to sit outside on the engawa to eat dinner, relishing in the soft noises of the night as darkness began to fall. When they finished, Kakashi set their plates to the side, scooting closer to Iruka to wrap an arm around him. While the day remained pleasantly warm, by the time night came, the air turned cold, autumn making itself known. Iruka leaned into Kakashi, wrapping his own arms around Kakashi’s torso. 

They sat in the quiet, only the sound of a light breeze rustling the leaves and crickets disturbing the night air. 

When Kakashi spoke, it was a whisper, almost lost to the quiet wind. 

“Do you like it here?” 

Iruka turned his head up to look at Kakashi, his nose brushing Kakashi’s bare neck. 

“I do,” he paused, hesitation heavy in the moment of silence. “I was… surprised you brought me here. I didn’t think you would.” 

“You deserve a proper home,” Kakashi said simply. 

Confusion colored Iruka’s voice, “I have our flat. It’s not much, but it’s home. Anywhere with you is home.” 

Kakashi’s voice was strained, words stilted, trying to correct his misstep, “Ah, I meant… well, that is…” He took a breath, Iruka moving with the rise and fall of Kakashi’s chest. “You deserve a house with a yard for you to put a garden in. A room for an office and one for Naruto. I would say a bigger kitchen, but I would rather you not cook.” 

“Hey!” Iruka said, pinching Kakashi’s side. He didn’t bother dodging, just let Iruka do as he pleased. “I’m not that bad! I can make a few things without burning the place to the ground.”

Iruka paused, seeming to gather his thoughts, “Kakashi, what are you really saying though? There’s something you’re getting at, and I think I know, but I need you to say it.” 

The jounin flushed a brilliant shade of pink, visible in the unobstructed, bright moonlight. Iruka had sat up, looking at him intently. The seriousness of the conversation settled around them. 

Finally, Kakashi whispered, “what if we moved here?” 

Silence followed. Kakashi remained still, the urge to fidget drilled out of him at a young age. That didn’t stop the anxiety from building within him. Perhaps he had misjudged, perhaps Iruka was not willing to leave his flat. What was he even thinking, asking Iruka to live in a place full of ghosts, haunted by the mistakes of Kakashi’s past. 

A warm hand against his cheek halted his spiraling thoughts. When his eyes focused again, Iruka’s beautiful face filled his vision, brown eyes warm and a little watery, cheeks pink. 

“Kakashi, do _you_ want to live here?” 

Of course, Iruka was thinking about Kakashi, about what he wanted, not what Iruka wanted. Kakashi’s heart clenched, the love he had for Iruka growing. He never thought he could love, let alone love someone as much as he did Iruka, but the man was extraordinary. He was the most selfless, caring person in spite of being a shinobi. 

“If it was with you, I think I would like to make new memories here, happier ones.” 

The radiant smile directed at Kakashi was almost too much, the pure joy that Iruka emitted. 

“I would love to make memories here with you,” Iruka said, pulling Kakashi’s face closer to his own. When their lips pressed together, Kakashi’s fears melted away, leaving behind only the feel of Iruka against him. The only thing that mattered was Iruka and his happiness. 

*

The move to the Hatake manor took a couple of weeks, if only because they had to schedule around their village duties; Iruka with teaching and Mission Desk work and Kakashi with back-to-back missions. 

When it was all said and done though, the small flat they had shared for the last six months—Iruka having lived there much longer—emptied and cleaned, Kakashi felt an odd sense of relief; he felt somewhat lighter as they collapsed onto the sofa in the lounge, Iruka leaning on Kakashi. He slung his arm over Iruka’s shoulder, Iruka’s hand finding Kakashi’s and tangling their fingers. 

“I’m excited for spring,” Iruka said, his head leaning to rest against Kakashi’s forearm. The skin tingled where Iruka’s met it and Kakashi was keenly aware of every scar that marked his arm. “I want to grow some vegetables. Leek, eggplant, bok choy. Oh! Homemade ramen with veggies fresh from our own garden!” 

The excitement was infectious and Kakashi found himself smiling as Iruka went on about the plans he had for the garden and the rest of the backyard. Kakashi was just happy that Iruka was happy. If anyone could turn this house, full of memories—good and bad—and ghosts, into a home, it was Umino Iruka. 

*

Several more weeks passed, the air outside getting colder each day, nights becoming frigid. The irori was often lit, keeping the house warm while Iruka was cuddled under the kotatsu, marking papers and finalizing lesson plans. Kakashi was in and out on missions, never spending more than a night in the village. 

It was the second week of December when Kakashi found himself in Tsunade’s office, debriefing after another A-rank mission. Luckily, this one hadn’t gone sideways. 

He had just finished his report, the perfect image of boredom—eye half-lidded, posture slouched—when Tsunade peered up at him. The report was perfunctory and procedure, nothing more, and she had continued reviewing the papers on her desk as he spoke. Now that he was finished though, she gave him her full attention. 

“Excellent work, Hatake. You’re on village patrols for the next two weeks.” 

Though his face remained impassive, Kakashi was mightily confused. 

“May I ask why, Lady Tsunade?” 

“Ya know, most people would have taken the easy shifts and run. You’re not most people though, are you?” Tsunade muttered. She returned her attention back to the papers on her desk, picking them up and straightening them, tapping the edges on the wood. “You have a holiday coming up, if I remember correctly. It was one of the few times of year your father would ask to remain in the village. Said he wanted to be home at sundown with his son.” 

Kakashi tensed at the mention of his father. No one talked about Hatake Sakumo except for harsh whispers of disdain. Kakashi had forgotten that Sakumo, Tsunade, and Jiraiya had been close friends all those years ago. 

“Thank you, ma’am,” Kakashi said absently, mind still looping through memories of Konoha’s famed White Fang. 

Tsunade snorted inelegantly, “Don’t ma’am me, brat.” 

The familiar nickname pulled Kakashi back to the present. Tsunade was staring at him again. 

“Don’t get too lost in those, Kakashi,” she said gently, her shift in mood rapid, reminding Kakashi of Iruka. As if she could read his mind, Tsunade asked, “Are you going to share Hanukkah with him?” 

“Well, we do live together.” 

“Just because you live together, doesn’t mean you share things. I know you, Kakashi. I may have been gone from this village for a long time and missed things, but when it comes to things like this, you’re still that small boy who lost his father and was refused a childhood.” 

Kakashi bristled. He didn’t want to have this conversation. 

She continued, “Calm down before ANBU tries to descend on the place. You’re only mad because you know I’m right. Let Iruka in, let him learn. It’s obvious he wants to. Jiraiya and I should have done that for Sakumo.” 

He couldn’t deny her words, no matter how much he disliked her delivery. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he finally said. 

Tsunade narrowed her eyes, “Now you’re just trying to piss me off. Get out of here before I throw you out. Through the window.” 

Kakashi gave her his signature eye smile, before turning and leaving through the door. It wasn’t his preferred method of entry and exit, but it sufficed in the moment. He didn’t want to get too close to the Hokage in case she made good on her threat. It was one thing if he _chose_ to use the window; it was another thing entirely to be thrown from the window. 

*

Walking up the familiar path gave Kakashi an odd feeling of deja vu. He walked this path every time he approached the house from the front, but something about this time felt different, yet similar. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around the conflicting feelings; it caused a small amount of anxiety to spark in him, settling in his chest as he did his best to understand why he felt the way he did. 

It was already dark out, the sun setting earlier each day it seemed, and as Kakashi passed through the gate, the chakra of the old seals and Iruka’s new ones humming around him, he saw the soft, glowing light from the kitchen window, Iruka’s ponytail dancing as Iruka himself moved around the space. His movements were graceful and beautiful. Kakashi could watch Iruka move for eternity and still not get enough of it. 

He finished his trek to the door, slipping through quietly. The air was warm and smelled like the ramen Iruka must have been cooking, but also of sandalwood and rain, that distinct scent that Kakashi associated with Iruka. 

“I’m back,” he called into the space. 

There was a clatter from the kitchen and the crackle of the irori as he set his keys in the shallow bowl on the table by the door, the one Iruka had picked out because of the color—it was a beautiful blue and green swirl that Iruka said reminded him of the ocean. Light steps made their way to the genkan as he shrugged out of his vest, hanging it on the hook. 

Kakashi was slipping his sandals off when Iruka appeared around the corner, a bright smile blazoned across his face, crinkling the scar across his nose. 

“Welcome home, Kashi!” he said as his eyes scanned over Kakashi’s person, checking for injuries, just as he did every time Kakashi returned from a mission. Apparently satisfied that Kakashi was in one piece, he launched himself at the jounin, wrapping his arms around Kakashi’s neck. “I missed you.” And then, “I love you.” 

Iruka always greeted Kakashi like this after a mission, whether it took him one day or one week to complete. 

Warmth bloomed within Kakashi. He hadn’t thought he would ever get this sort of happiness, wouldn’t have someone to come home to that said they missed him and they loved him. 

And then the realization hit him with so much force, it could have brought him to his knees if he wasn’t holding onto Iruka as tight as Iruka was holding onto him. 

This was home. 

That feeling of deja vu that had struck him moments before suddenly made sense. He remembered the day he had come to clean the manor, the first day of Sukkot, when he brought Iruka to the estate for the first time. That hope he had, that they could make a life for themselves in this house, could make it a home, had come to fruition. 

“I love you, too,” Kakashi mumbled against Iruka’s hair, overwhelmed with the emotions of his realization. He took a breath, trying to steady himself. 

Iruka pulled back slightly to look at Kakashi’s face, concern apparent. “Kakashi, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong. The opposite, actually.” 

Iruka’s head tilted in confusion, but he didn’t say anything, waiting for Kakashi to continue. 

“You’ve made this house into a home, Iruka. It’s been a very long time since this place was a home, but you—in all your amazing abilities—were able to make it that again.” 

Color burst on Iruka’s face as he ducked his head, but not before Kakashi saw the tear slip down his cheek. He placed a finger under Iruka’s chin, gently lifting his head back up. 

“You are a mensch, my love,” Kakashi said, thumbing away Iruka’s tear and kissing his forehead. 

Iruka gave a pouty smile, “I don’t know what that means.” 

“In a simple way, it means you are a good person.”

The blush returned, “Oh.” 

“But you’re also so much more than that. We would be here awhile if I counted all the ways.”

“Kakashi,” Iruka groaned, his hands moving to cover his face. 

The jounin laughed, the sound lighter than it had ever been before. It surprised even Kakashi, how easy it was and how much lighter _he_ felt. And the reason for it was standing right in front of him, looking beautiful as ever. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to explain to Iruka just how much he meant to Kakashi, but he hoped that his actions could convey what his words could not. 

Deciding to change the subject to spare Iruka further embarrassment, Kakashi turned Iruka around, pressing him forward with the question, “What’s for dinner?” 

Iruka squeaked, “Oh shit!” and ran back into the kitchen, more of Kakashi’s laughter trailing him. 

*

Kakashi had one more day before Hanukkah began. Tomorrow at sundown he would place the shamash and first candle in the menorah, recite the two blessings and the shehecheyanu, and then light the candles, letting them burn down completely. He would repeat this every night at sundown for the eight days of Hanukkah, with the exception of including the shehecheyanu. 

He was lost in thought about this over dinner, poking at his rice and vegetables. He would need to pull out the menorah, as it was still packed away in the spare bedroom. Kakashi also needed to say something to Iruka about it; he could just light the candles himself and not say anything, but that would be awkward and Kakashi was awkward enough without making it worse. 

Iruka, as always, surprised Kakashi. 

“What day does Hanukkah start?” Iruka asked, curiosity coloring his features. 

Kakashi blinked at him, wondering if somehow Iruka could read his mind. 

“Tomorrow, at sundown.” 

Iruka hummed before asking, “Are we celebrating Hanukkah?” 

The wording was so innocuous it could have slipped by unnoticed. But Kakashi was a jounin, former-ANBU, trained to pick up on subtle phrasing. 

One could interpret that phrasing as presumptuous, but Kakashi felt his chest warm, just as it did every time Iruka wanted to know more, to understand Kakashi’s customs, to be a part of Kakashi’s jewishness. 

He could have responded any number of ways, but the only thing that came out was, “I would like that.” 

The smile that Iruka gave him sustained him more than the food on his plate. 

“I was doing some reading, and well, I know you don’t care for fried foods much, but I was thinking we could make latkes,” Iruka said, scratching the side of his nose. “That is, if you want to. We don’t have to. I thought you might prefer them to sufganiyot, though.” 

Iruka stumbled a little on the pronunciation, but didn’t let that stop him. 

“We could make those, if you want though. Or not. Really, it’s whatever you want to do. I don’t mind,” he rambled. Kakashi waited for Iruka to stop and take a breath, a smile dancing at the corners of his lips. 

Iruka huffed, curling in on himself slightly, “Why are you laughing at me?” 

“I’m not,” Kakashi said, the grin that spread across his face contradicting his words. 

“You are,” Iruka insisted, ducking his head. “I know I don’t understand all of the stuff, but I’m trying!” 

Kakashi had to stop Iruka now, not wanting the other man to think he was doing something wrong. 

“My love, you’re doing fine. It means a lot to me that you want to learn. I haven’t shared this with anyone in a very long time.” 

Iruka’s head snapped up so fast Kakashi was worried for a moment that it would pop right off. He was sure that Iruka knew the latter, knew that Kakashi didn’t have anyone he wanted to share this part of himself with, not really, not until Iruka came along, but the man’s reaction indicated he hadn’t realized that. 

“Kakashi,” Iruka all but whispered, reaching out his hand. Kakashi automatically returned the gesture, no thought involved, just tangling their fingers together. “I’m honored to share this with you. I’ve said it before, this is part of who you are and I want to know every part of you. Of course I want to learn.” 

Oh, Kakashi realized, Iruka had been surprised at how much it meant to Kakashi. 

“We should make latkes. I actually like them quite a bit. And we’ll make some sufganiyot for you. You’ll enjoy them.”

Iruka lit up again, giving Kakashi’s hand a soft squeeze. 

“We’ll make latkes tomorrow then, before we light the menorah. Will you teach me?” Iruka asked.

“For you, anything,” Kakashi replied, the feeling of home, hope, and happiness settling around him. For the first time in a long time, he sent a brief prayer, thanking God for bringing Iruka into his life. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! comments/kudos are greatly appreciated!! 
> 
> [tumblr](https://stupidbadgers.tumblr.com)


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